Drabbles of Doom pt 1
by FloodFeSTeR
Summary: A set of random, far-spaced, out of this world drabbles for the Courier and a few unnamed and named characters throughout the Mojave Wasteland. Some may be romantic, most will be for glitches and things I find amusing.
1. Mobius

**Sooo I was playing Old World Blues and I developed a weird soft spot for Mobius. I was going to write a few one shots with him and the Courier, not romantic of course, just her visiting him when he was so lonely in the Big Empty. Then, I thought of what a few other people (meaning companions, random canon characters and even occasional random, unnamed wastelanders) feel when the Courier comes around for a spell.**

**Some of them may be romantic, but the Courier isn't promiscuous or anything like that. Not all of them will be related, and if they are I will tell but I highly doubt any of these will be. The ones that deal with the add-ons will be related to the respective add-on, meaning if I do one or two with Honest Hearts or Old World Blues they will be connected. I'll say so at the top so no one gets confused. Ok, that was pretty confusing, sorry about that I tend to get way too detailed with this stuff. ANYWAY! Long authors note, don't expect any more of these. I will say that the most frequented characters will be maybe ghouls and the good (and bad) folks from the add-ons. They will all feature the Courier in one way or another, through thoughts or her actually being there. I doubt any of them will have her thought process in there, just the character she is visiting. Sorry for all of the Author Note.**

**Last thing: Updates will be random, but not erratic. I won't go probably more than two or three days without updating and most of these will be really short. Hence a one shot/drabble title. And I do insist you go to my profile and check over the Couriers stats and everything, to get better acquainted. I do requests if you want your own one shot or your own Courier to have a story. I do Male or Female, no real preference, but I do say I favor female a little more. I can add it in here or I can do it separately, just review if you're a guest or PM me if you have an account. Details on profile page.**

**Now on to the show…**

* * *

><p>His biomed gel was filled with sparks as he flitted around the echoed dome. The machines buzzed around him, lights flashing across dials that have went unused for over a hundred years, some monitors covered in an aged green film, rusted around the edges because of misuse. Tables were heaped with scrap metal and spare components to machines he had already lost before he had even picked them up. The lights overhead, once a brilliant cerulean color, were now covered in the same green film as the terminal monitors, the floor still scuffed and scratched from two centuries of wear-and-tear.<p>

All the while he hummed and muttered to himself, checking monitors and rechecking them, going for a healthy dose of Mentats and the occasional sting of Psycho whenever he felt like it. Of course, whenever he got the wrong dose of either, he could feel the emptiness in his domicile and occasionally wandered what it would be like to have a companion or even a visitor ever once in a while, to shake things up a bit and entertain him, help him even, with whatever scientific pursuit he was going for. Though, the more he thought about that, the more he thought about how there wasn't a wide array of companions in the Big Empty. The robo-scorpions were not friendly conversations, the cyber-dogs were fun and loyal, but Mobius needed a conversational piece, something , or someone, that could help him solve equations or simply converse with. But there were no humans living in the Big Empty, and that was what he needed. A coherent, intelligent, human.

And one day, he found one. One that visited regularly, and never whined or complained or under minded his theories and ideas.

"Mobius! We're here!"

Atilla, the Courier who ended up in the Big Empty and enjoyed every minute of it.

Mobius spun around in his place beside his monitors, and he wanted to give her a more warming smile than the one that was programmed into his monitor. "O-Oh, Atilla. Is it that time already?"

She smiled and grunted her way up the platform, approaching him. "Yep, been a week. I got you some stuff too," she grinned, pulling her pack from her shoulders. "You wouldn't believe the hard time I had in the Mojave finding all of these."

She turned her pack over and out poured a massive amount of Mentats. A few packs spilled over the edge of his research table and bounced against the worn floor, skidding this way and that but not out of reach. Atilla smiled proudly at Mobius, and if he could he would have cried. Oh how he did love Mentats! And she had listened when he was muttering about running low on a supply. He had mentioned how he would have to go out into the Big Empty to look for more, but she had told him no. To wait for her, and she had pulled through.

"Oh my Mentats!" was all he could say.

She chuckled and dropped her now empty pack onto the floor. "Well, you better be thanking me soon because I had to go to a few far out places to get these bad boys."

Mobius looked over at her. "Oh yes, thank you ever so much! I shall enjoy some now."

Atilla nodded. "Alrighty, you do that and I'm gonna go get a friend of mine."

Mobius paid no mind to her words for the moment, more focused in his task to get some of those lovely Mentats into his artificial circulatory system. Atilla ended up in Big Mountain every Tuesday of every other week. Came to explore, to play, find new gadgets and of course, visit the lonely Dr. Mobius in his Research facility. She was the heir to Big Mountain, but she never staid too long in the Think Tank. She preferred moving company to the stationary ones in The Sink. And there was only so much her little Muggy could do with his entertaining obsession of mugs and dishes.

Mobius jumped when he heard the chipper bark that echoed through the dome, and looked down at the entryway, seeing a bright furred cyber dog standing in the doorway. It looked around and panted, its tail wagging as Atilla passed and pat its brain casing.

"Come on girl, Mobius doesn't bite."

Mobius hovered in place while Atilla led the dog towards him, a small smile on her face. She stopped in front of him, watching as Mobius and the hound examined each other like beasts of the same breed. He had never seen this dog through the terminals and the computers. True, all cyber dogs looked alike, but there was always something that set them apart from the others. Always some detail the creators through in to tell them apart from all of the others. And Mobius had found this dogs difference. Her bio med gel had a healthy, pink glow instead of congealed and red. He moved around to see Atilla, and she was smiling at them.

"She is new!"

She nodded. "Her name is Roxie, I found her holotapes in the X-8 and…well it gets so lonely when I'm out in the crate so I figured some companionship would be nice. I can't take you or Muggy with me."

"Why can't you take me?"

She chuckled and reached out, poking at the monitor he could no longer see out of. "Because we don't have that fixed yet. You wouldn't be able to fully see what you were attacking if anything happened and I wouldn't live with myself if something happened to you Mobius."

Mobius wanted to smile. She cared for him, like no one else had in two centuries.

Atilla, the Courier that ended up in the Big Empty and enjoyed every minute of it.

She visited every Tuesday of every other week.

Just to run around with Dr. Mobius.


	2. Boone

**So I decided on a angst song-fic this time. It sucks and was just me being an angsty 17 year old girl and I think Boone is too stuck on his wife. I didn't have the time to revise it so excuse any spelling mistakes or punctuation errors. Lyrics belong to Nine Inch Nails, but I prefer the version by Johnny Cash.**

* * *

><p><em><strong>I hurt myself today…<strong>_

_**To see if I still feel…**_

_**I focus on the pain…**_

_**The only thing that's real…**_

_**The needle tears a hole…**_

_**The old familiar sting…**_

_**Try to kill it all away…**_

_**But I remember everything…**_

* * *

><p>She stared out over the open expanse of desert below her, cigarette balanced between her middle and index finger. She grit her teeth in aggravation, dropping the cigarette over the edge of the cliff. It was lifted and carried off by the wind, towards Quarry Junction, and she let her head drop back, a groan slipping from between her chapped lips. She felt like she was an inmate under the eyes of a guard. That was what he was to her, that was why she asked him to tag along, but now she was regretting that decision. They had been sitting on top of Quarry Junction for three hours, his eyes on her back as she sat on the edge of a cliff. If she tried to fall she knew he would catch her. If she asked for a lighter he wouldn't allow it to her.<p>

But she tried anyway.

"Just let me go…"

"No, Atilla."

She groaned and pushed herself to her feet, stumbling back slightly before she went to jump. His arms darted out and caught her, wrapped her and held her against a hard chest. She kicked and screamed, catching the unwanted attention of the Deathclaws at their feet. Whipped her head around for a minute before she clamped her teeth into the tough skin of his arm. He cursed and let her go, catching her wrist just before she tumbled down the slope backwards.

* * *

><p><em><strong>What have I become…<strong>_

_**My sweetest friend…**_

_**Everyone I know…**_

_**Goes away…**_

_**In the end…**_

_**And you could have it all…**_

_**My empire of dirt…**_

_**I will let you down…**_

_**I will make you hurt…**_

* * *

><p>Just let me go Boone…please just let me go….<p>

She peered over her right shoulder, fear set in her bright eyes as she saw the Deathclaw alpha male snapping his jaws at her ankles, the mother watching from a distance like the leader she was. Atilla looked back to Boone, saw his teeth gritted beneath his dark sunglasses. He tried to jerk her towards him but she shook her head and tugged on his hold again. He didn't let her go, he wouldn't let her go. He would never let her go, no matter how many times she begged for him to.

It wasn't like he loved her or even liked her, he was a hired hand, doing his job. She didn't want him to keep her alive anymore. She had done so much good, but she had also done so many bad things. Leaving those people to die in Vault 34 when they begged for help, putting down Rex when he got shot at Hoover Dam, putting Raul down like a Gecko or a Mole Rat when he crossed her. She had no friends anymore, she was out of companions. All she had left was Boone, and he didn't want her around him anymore. He never wanted her, no matter how many times she wished he did, he would never want her.

He wanted his wife.

And Atilla was just the Courier.

_**I wear this crown of thorns…**_

_**Upon my liar's chair…**_

_**Full of broken thoughts…**_

_**I cannot repair…**_

_**Beneath the stains of time…**_

_**The feelings disappear…**_

_**You are someone else…**_

_**I am still right here…**_

She cried out and slumped forward onto her knees, his hand still holding onto her tightly. Her shoulders shook with tears, her chest hurting, her head hurting. She didn't understand what she wanted anymore. Him, her sanity, to feel, her friends, home. She didn't know, and there was no one left to help her figure it out.

They all claimed her a hero, saying she was everything to everyone else. Atilla thought it was a lie. If she was everything, how come she didn't have anything? True, she had a million things. She had a glowing city waiting for her north, she had Goodsprings welcoming her back with open arms, she had the Big Empty. She had plenty of things but she was missing two things she needed, craved.

Her friends.

Herself.

Her friends were gone and so was her memory. She didn't know who she was still. After five years, she was still in the dark over who Atilla really was. She didn't even know if that was her real name, it was just the first thing that had come to her when Doc Mitchell had woke her up. Atilla just wanted to know who she was, maybe. She was missing something to fill that hole in her life, and she hadn't found it yet. It seemed like she was never going to find it. So she just wanted to let go. She just wanted to erase herself from the history books, make it so no one ever remembered who she was so she could try and remember.

But Boone wouldn't let her go.

* * *

><p><em><strong>What have I become…<strong>_

_**My sweetest friend…**_

_**Everyone I know…**_

_**Goes away…**_

_**In the end…**_

_**And you could have it all…**_

_**My empire of dirt…**_

_**I will let you down…**_

_**I will make you hurt…**_

* * *

><p>He pulled her away from the edge, crouching down and pulling her to him. He stared over the edge of the cliff, hearing the snarls and seeing the blood stained teeth snapping at them. He muttered a curse and reached into Atilla's side bag, pulling out all of the blood sausage he could. He tossed it over the edge, as far as he could, and sighed in relief when the snarls distanced themselves from the cliff side. He couldn't think straight with all of that noise.<p>

He looked down at Atilla, seeing she was out like a light. What the hell had she been thinking, trying to kill herself like that? It wasn't the first time, over the course of his time with her she had made many attempts on her life, but not by using Quarry Junction. Atilla was unstable, just wanting her life back, the one she couldn't get back without her memory. And her memory wasn't coming back any time soon. He reached up and ran the tips of his fingers against the scar running across the side of her skull, keeping the hair from growing there. When he had met her it was still raw and stitched, painful to look at. Now it was nothing but smooth tissue and straining stubble.

She hated life. She didn't want it anymore. Everyone was always asking so much of the young woman. They needed her for too many things, they didn't realize she could only take so much. She wasn't a super hero, she was a woman in her twenties just wanting some down time. Thanks to the world outside of her lit city she had lost friends, the closest ones to her. The cyber dog was a hard hit, Raul had been in her arms when she shot him. She hadn't slept in a soldi week, hadn't ate in days.

It was just time, and Boone was there to protect her from the world.

He swallowed and reached into her back pocket, pulling out the 9mm pistol. He sighed and pressed his lips against her forehead, the barrel of the gun against her temple. "I did love you…"

* * *

><p><em><strong>If I could start again…<strong>_

_**A million miles away…**_

_**I would keep myself…**_

_**I would find a way…**_


	3. Pause

_**Been a minute since I actually got around to one of these. This one is definitely humor. The concept is actually what started the drabbles besides Mobius. I hope you all enjoy. And it's all crack. I know Boone would never actually freak out like this.**_

_**Concept: What happens when you press pause?**_

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><p>"Still think this was a good idea?"<p>

Atilla glared over at Boone, who was leaning against the same boulder as she, face as calm as ever even as the Super Mutant Master howled behind their shelter. "Oh shut up," she muttered, cradling her Anti-Material Rifle against her chest. "I just wanted to check it out."

They had been headed towards Devil's Throat when they stumbled upon a bomb and its super mutants. Her Pip-Boy had dinged up a name, 'The One', and of course she got curious and wandered too close. Her left calf was bleeding pretty badly, the 5.56mm bullets from the Chinese Assault Rifle waiting for them must have knicked an artery or something. Atilla hissed as an explosion erupted not ten feet away from them and her ears pricked at the distinctive sound of a reloading missile launcher. She grit her teeth as another explosion erupted and then swung herself around, rifle specs pressed against her right eye and she fired. The Super Mutants screamed in agony as a new explosion hit the ground at their feet. They both were on the ground now, scratching at their obviously broken legs, weapons too far away to be helpful, and Atilla smirked, lowering her weapon.

"Kiss it," she taunted, raising her bum as high as she could with an arched back, smirking widely at Boone.

He huffed and looked away from her, the corners of his mouth twitching lightly. 'Hell no."

She huffed this time, pushing herswlf to her feet. She smiled at him before walking towards the bomb. "An undetonated bomb," she mused, walking around it. "This is pretty cool."

Boone kept his distance. "You're crazy to be around it."

She atuck her tongue out at him, rifle held over her right shoulder. "Don't have to be such a party pooper."

"Well I-"

"Boone look out!"

He watched her swing her rifle down and then looked back and up, actually quivering at the size of the mutant behind him. It screamed a trademark cry and raised a super sledge over its head, pausing halfway to Boone. Boone stared at it for a moment, wondering why it had stopped and noticed its eyes darting around, an aggravated grumble coming from its massive chest.

"What the hell is going on?!"

He tried to look back at Atilla but he couldn't, he could only blink and talk. "I-I don't know."

"I'm freaking out right now!"

"And I'm just peachy," he quipped, trying to grab his rifle.

Ok, he was freaking out now too.

For a solid hour they screamed, Atilla crying and the Super Mutant still giving high pitched cries."Will you shut the fuck up," Boone yelled at the mutant.

It actually whimpered and quieted, its whole frame quivering. They would be pretty stiff after this. If it ever ended. Boone's eyes darted around, needing to see Atilla, but he coulen't. She was behind him. And far away and that.

After a good twenty minutes or so, Boone and Atilla kicked up their panicking a few notches. Screaming and crying for help. Boone had his eyes closed and was whimpering, Atilla was sobbing and the beast was trying to break free of whatever hold was on them.

"This is your fucking fault," Boone growled at Atilla, grunting as his left arm wouldn't move.

"My fault?! How is this my fucking fault?!"

"You just had to come all the way out here and look at us! We're stuck and can't move."

Atilla fell silent for a minute before she muttered. "Yeah..."

Boone huffed. "Just keep trying to get loose."

Thrashing about, they all began to think they were maybe going to be stuck in place forever, until Bokne fell. Silence fell over the three of them and Atilla looked down at her feet, lifting them at her own will and she smiled, looking up as Boone stood. They all looked at each other, the Super Mutant quiet and they all looked down, slightly embarrassed by their displays.

"So uh...how about we try this again on our way back from Devil's Throat," Atilla tried, looking up at the mutant.

It stared at her in a weird way before nodding, lumbering towards The One while Bolne and Atilla fast tracked back towards New Vegas.

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><p><em><strong>CRACKFIC FROM HELL<strong>_

_**So would anyone care for a backstory on Atilla? Let me know please. If not then I just won't do it but if anykne says yes then I'll get a date set and start working. **_


	4. Tin Can Phone

_**11:51 p.m. – 2/20/14**_

_Sooo this is for my reader josueb who requested an M!Courier/Cass pairing. I hope I did this justice, never written a male character before, especially paired with a woman. I did some yaoi stuff with other stories but that's for another time. I had some fun doing this and if anyone wants another request just review._

_I didn't get a description for the M!Courier before I typed and posted this, so ya know._

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><p><em><strong>So I call you on the tin can phone.<br>We rendezvous at quarter-two,  
>and make sure we're alone<br>I think I've found a way for you and I  
>to finally fly free.<strong>_

* * *

><p>"Cass!"<p>

Aforementioned woman cringed into her whiskey. She was tucked away in the dining room of the _**Lucky 38 **_casino Presidential Suite, in the dark and out of view of everyone. Boone and Lily had already came through and hadn't noticed her at all. She wasn't there to them, just another brick in the wall, or another tear in its two hundred year old wallpaper. But one person noticed her, one person could pick her out in the dark of night in the wasteland. Hell, she could be wearing a Stealth Boy and he would find her.

"Cass I know you're in the dining room!"

She groaned and let her forehead connect with the moldy table top. "What do you want?"

His laugh echoed through the suite and he came swooping in, dangling from the doorframe his fingers clenched. He had let his hair grow out the past few months and it was the color of ash, brushing against his shoulders as he abruptly stopped. His usual armor had been peeled away and he wore a simple undershirt and a pair of black pants that belonged under leather armor. He had taken off his Pip-Boy when they had got in last night and Cass could see the holes where the nerve detectors dug in. Her eyes met his, full of concern, but he didn't notice it apparently because he was still smiling at her.

Like she was the only person in the world.

She _hated_ that shit.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy _hated_ Nathaniel the Courier.

Of course, that's what she told herself.

"You wanna go out somewhere?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Like where?"

He shrugged and let go of the doorframe, leaning onto the table next, inching closer towards her every time she took a sip of her whiskey. "Maybe we can go to the Ultra-Luxe."

"Stuffy."

"Tops?"

"Those bastards gross me out, they all reek of hair gel and two hundred year old cologne."

"Gomorrah."

She reared a hand back and let it smack across his stubbled jaw, cheeks burning. "No."

He chuckled. "And why not?"

She looked down the neck of her whiskey bottle, cheeks heating up further, if they could. "You know very well why."

"Aw, Joanna didn't mean it and you know it."

She looked up through her lashes at him, seeing that lopsided grin and then she looked away, huffing as she lifted her drink back up to her lips. "It _wasn't_ funny."

"You gotta admit it was sort of funny."

She grumbled. "It wasn't funny, it was embarrassing. I didn't even wanna go in there anyway. You knew that."

He laughed again, earning a chuckle from Boone in the other room. "Ok, so maybe I did know, but so what," he slid closer towards her, smiling like an idiot and making her lose that train of thought again. Fucker. "You still wanna runaway with me?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded for a moment. "Wh-What?"

"Wanna run away with me, tonight," he stood and stretched. "It's been pretty boring around here since Sierra and well, Boone is a bore and Lily is…Lily. Come on, Cass," he leaned onto the table with his arms. "Run away with me. We can get drunk, go crazy with our guns and maybe kill some stuff. The city is boring, wasteland is our playground."

He was excited, and possibly high, but Cass didn't dwell on that part. She just sighed and nodded, smiling a little as he bounded off into the next room.

* * *

><p>"One down, one to go."<p>

Cass leaned back against the rock at Nathaniel's side, eyes staring at his hands as they cradled the silencer rifle so gently. He was lying flat on his stomach at the edge of the Cliffside Prospector Camp they had found last night. The sun was coming up through the red rocks and the morning air was littered with mist and empty gecko cries. Cass jumped back into reality as he fired, a slight pop giving way to a deadly bullet. Looking out at the land below them she watched another Fire Gecko crumple to the ground.

"Come on," she muttered in a half drunken state, nudging his elbow with the toe of her boot. "I'm tired."

He chuckled and looked over at her, his leather armor shining with aged blood as he twisted to sit up in the sunlight. "My, my, Miss Cassidy are you drunk?"

She flipped him off and he chuckled again, leaning the rifle against the rocks behind him. "Shut up you jerk, you're the one that kept me out here all night shooting geckos."

"You came voluntarily," he hummed, falling back onto an old moldy mattress.

She grimaced and pushed at him, trying to get him off of it. "That thing is filthy," she slurred.

"So what," he grunted and pushed her off of him, grabbing her right wrist. "We sleep on stuff like this all the time."

"No we don't," she murmured, raising her left hand to get his grip off of her. "Let me go."

He grabbed that one as well. "And if I don't?"

She grimaced and stuck her tongue out at him. She was beyond wasted. "Lemme go, Nathan," she whined loudly.

He smirked and tugged on her, forcing her back flat against the sand. A man like Nathaniel was never supposed to admit he found a woman beautiful , unless he was trying to get information from her or was plain lonely. But right now, in the morning light, Cass looked down right beautiful. Flushed, freckled skin, tan from years in the sun and he knew about the unnoticed curves beneath her frumpy flannel and jeans. And those eyes. Those damn eyes. When he first locked his own with them, he felt like he remembered something about them. Whether it was the color or the owner, he didn't know, but something was familiar.

But he had tried to forget about that. Tried to forget about those first few months trekking through the wasteland with her at his side, just as stumbling and incoherent as he had been. Of course she had been buzzing on whiskey, he had, had an aching hole in his head.

She reached up now, fingertips ghosting across the old scar tissue, thinking back. It had been three years and it still hadn't healed right. "I'm sorry," she whispers, not knowing what she is apologizing for exactly.

He smiles slightly, but it is really just a twitch of the lips and he sits up, watching as she sleeps. "I am too…"

* * *

><p><em>I did truly enjoy writing this little piece. Maybe we'll see more of them later on.<em>


	5. The Fort

_**5:51 p.m. – 3/4/14**_

_This originally was going to be a one shot my co-author Vatos, but she decided against it and I gained it instead. The woman is not my Courier Atilla, she has no name, in this small piece at least. I don't know if I will do anymore with Her and Vulpes, but this is definitely a good one shot. Very short, no M rating needed, intelligent romance. If you like it, tell me please. I might start something (a story) to go to this but it all depends. No feedback, no story, just random one shots to come._

* * *

><p>No one knew how quiet it was inside the Fort.<p>

Though war drums beat occasionally, all in all it was peaceful. No screams of agony, no pleas for safety. Inside it was nothing like NCR spouted.

The tent was almost as high as Caesar's, more off to the left, out of hearing range of the camp but still inside its boundaries. It was the same mass as Caesars, but unlike his it opened on the side and always remained open unless it was raining or cold. Sometimes even then. Tonight it was clouded and thunder crackled around the camp, war drums beating softly along the perimeters of the slave encampment, and fires burned in large bowls upon wooden stilts, sending the glow across the camp and the embers into the sky.

She stood on the fringe of the open tent, sheets wrapped around her body as her eyes swept along the tops of crimson and brown tents. Her hair was long and fluttering, wet from a cold bath, and her eyes were bright. A non-breeding female was rare in the Fort, but she had proved herself worthy of a higher title. A _demon_, is what Caesar had called her. She wasn't known to the world outside of the Fort, but inside of it she was dangerous, and not to be trifled with. She was branded, not by hot metal, but by her own will, to a man _she_ deemed worthy of her time. And he had found he enjoyed it, she could cower beneath him if he wanted her to, and she did it on her own accord. It made it all the more alluring and addicting.

This man was _not_ the mighty Caesar.

But he was equally feared and respected.

He stepped behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing her to his chest. "What do you think you are doing," he purred in her ear.

She didn't even flinch, her expression remained stern, almost impassive and blank. "I am concerned," she murmured, her right hand coming up to rub one of his gently.

"The _Demon_ is concerned," he mused. "Interesting, what about?"

"About my job tomorrow…Demon or not, I had a place in the old world, I am not leaving it for Caesar."

"Hold your tongue, lest someone hears you."

She hissed and narrowed her eyes at some children doing their laps around Caesar's tent. "I am not afraid of any of them, I can strike them all down before they even touch me."

"Such boastful words will get Caesar on your back," he muttered, slightly aggravated with her disposition.

She was never usually this hard, on edge. She was truly unnerved by this task.

"I do not care about your Caesar," she turned in his arms, reaching up to place both of her hands on either side of his face. "I only care about you and my duties. And this one I am not so sure about…what if they do not listen?"

"Just quit, you can be a queen," he muttered, bending his head down and nibbling at the skin just under her earlobe.

She jumped slightly but didn't give him any other satisfaction, though the insides of her body were like live wires. "I can't sit still…you know that."

"I do, but it is aggravating."

She chuckled. "Now, would you like a stable woman?"

"Obviously not or I would have plucked up my own slave," he murmured, lips ghosting across the tender skin of her neck. Oh how he loved the way she hiked her whole body up when he did such a thing, those tiny gasps coming through her lips.

Like she _wasn't_ a demon

Like she _hadn't_ slaughtered her fair share of armies.

Like she was _human._

"Vulpes Inculta," she breathed into his ear, fingers dancing down his torso.

He wasn't as muscled as others in the Mojave. He was in fact, quite lean; in his arms and legs he had but what muscle he needed to get basics done, his torso was clean and slender, but hints of abdominal muscles rippled beneath the surface, showing on occasion when he came back from long treks through the Mojave sand. It was something she enjoyed, a sight she longed to behold. It was, in a twisted sort of way, her idea of a softer, gentler, him. But there was nothing soft or gentle about this man, he was all beast and all hers. She relished in the fact that she drew envious and hateful glares on her walks through the camp, biding her time for a new mission or waiting for him to come home. The women hated her, pining for her life as one of the top dogs instead of the lowly chow that they were. She was proud on the arm of Vulpes, not a bad looking man, and she was strong and fierce by herself.

His fingers threaded through the hair on the back of her head and he pulled her away from him, his cold eyes running over what he could see of her. "You are mine," he stated.

She nodded. "Yes, I am yours."


	6. Scrambler

_**4:48 p.m. – 3/3/14**_

_And back to Atilla we go:) I wanted to do something after I decided to do the option of taking over Goodsprings with the Powder Gangers. I went straight to the Correctional Facility because I had never been in there and I met Scrambler. I want to remind everyone that Atilla is not promiscuous, not all of these one shots are related and this one is sort of a Scrambler/F!Courier arc. I will let you know in an author's note whenever it's something like this._

* * *

><p>"Think she'd be willin…"<p>

Scrambler opened his one eye and lifted his head, watching Eddie and Carter admire something out the window. He grumbled a little as he pushed himself off of the wall, swaying towards the two. He looked out the shattered window and raised a brow. The old-world basketball court had been haphazardly cleared and a few of the inmates were tossing around a basketball, howling and whistling at the thin figure chasing them across the concrete. She twisted around one of them, a man Scrambler knew by the name of Jeremaih, and snatched the ball away. A laugh echoed through the air as she was chased by the same man, him cursing at the fact that she had gotten the ball from him. She paused mid-court and poised herself to 'flick' the ball. It swished through the hoop and she tossed her hands into the air, cheering along with Meyers and Carter.

Jeremaih laughed and went to grab her, obviously having no intentions of it meaning anything but friendly (which was odd), but a scoped 44. Magnum slid effortlessly from the holster on her thigh and with a smile still on her lips and a laugh ringing through the air she held it to his forehead. She and Myers still laughed while Jeremaih scrambled back, out of the barrel, and she slid it back into her holster, eyes flying to the window and Scrambler could have sworn they locked eyes.

She cupped her hands around her mouth and turned to the window fully, propping her left leg on her tip toes and cocking her hip. "Hey Scrambler! Come on down!"

Eddie and Carter looked over at him but he was already walking out the door, the lettering on his back all they saw. He stepped out into the courtyard unseen, sticking to the side wall so no one could see him and he let out a shrill whistle. Her head darted up and she looked around, lit cigarette hanging from her sweat-wet lips and then she saw his waving hand. She smiled and reached across the chipped picnic table for her small bag and she jogged over to the shadows with him. She dropped her pack and then pulled the cigarette from her lips, opening her mouth to speak until he caught her by her right wrist and jerked her towards him.

She gave a small squeak and her eyes snapped shut as her lips molded against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled herself closer to his, her toes dangling off of the ground slightly. She twisted her head slightly to the right and smirked against his lips as his hands wormed their way up her shorts, grabbing a firm hold onto his prize. Normally she hated anyone or anything but her touching her rear end. It made her unnaturally angry and most people thought she was overreacting but it was not just something you touch. But Scrambler, well, he could do whatever the hell he wanted to with it.

She pulled away from his lips, not opening her eyes and pressed her forehead against his chin, smiling. "And here I told Cass you were a gentleman."

"Why the hell would you ever think that?"

She looked up at him, face placid in thought. "Just because I see you as one. Now what the hell were Eddie and Carter looking at?"

"What do you think," he pulled her over to the pile of half burnt tires and fell back onto them, pulling her sweat drenched form onto his lap. "Your half naked ass running around here with a bunch of convicts, ass and tits bouncin' everywhere, who wouldn't look?"

She blushed at his words and then rested her head against his chest. "Can anyone see us?"

He shook his head and looked around. "Made sure we were out of sight of everyone."

"Good," she closed her eyes. "I've been waiting for this for two weeks and if anyone fucks it up I am going to shoot them."

He chuckled. "I don't think anyone will mess with us, pretty sure Jeremaih is telling everyone how you laughed while you held the gun to his face."

She let out a small sigh and snuggled in closer. "Sorry about the smell," she muttered, half asleep.

He closed his eye and laid his head back. "It's fine."

* * *

><p><em>Atilla's issue with her ass being touched is one of my own issues. I hate it for some reason, like I got furious at my mother for accidently touching it while she was throwing away a box of macaroni. This was inspired by me just wanting to cuddle with Scrambler.<em>


	7. Blood and Golden Geckos

_**M!Courier/Cass for josueb again. I enjoyed them too much to leave it at that. The Couriers name is Nathaniel. Addition of the Animal Perk, if you got it from the beginning of the game and could take some animals as companions.**_

* * *

><p>The day Cass met Nathaniel was an interesting one.<p>

Ranger Jackson was hovering behind her at the end of the hallway, watching her to make sure she didn't get belligerent like she had the night before. Those eyes in her back were burning and starting to grate against her already frazzled nerves. A scowl was laced across her chapped lips while she lifted the bottle of whiskey up to her lips. All these years and the burn still made her stomach churn. Cass looked up at the still ticking clock, surprised it actually worked and then sighed.

She had been sitting here every day for the last month, not allowed to leave but not wanted. She just wanted to go back home, she didn't care about revenge, she didn't care about it anymore, he just wanted to get home. Or somewhere else. Maybe D.C., she had heard of some woman from Vault 101 running wild out there and it sounded like a good place for her. Cass was tired of rules and regulations, a booze content limit. It was driving her crazy to be watched and judged about her whiskey, bugged about being drunk, bugged about shooting off her gun in the courtyard of the Mojave Outpost.

She was sick of it all.

After a long moment of silent ranting Cass noticed how quiet it was in the sort-of bar and then lifted her eyes from the bottom of her bottle, looking around the room. Everyone's eyes were on the door, wide set and bewildered. So she followed their gaze and then she realized why everyone was silent. There was a man there, covered head-to-toe in blood and leaning onto a rather large Golden Gecko. He was leaning heavily against it, left eye swollen shut and his jaw dotted in bright purples and green. He wore a set of tattered and stained lightweight leather armor, the exposed skin beneath splotchy and almost rotten looking. He swallowed and let out a loud, shaky, breath.

"I-I need help," he muttered before collapsing onto the ground.

Cass was the first to move, the second was Lacey. Of course the women moved first. Cass caught him against her chest before he hit the ground, grunting at the dead weight and then Lacey helped her drag him into the barracks. The Gecko followed behind them, calm and bitching. Cass eyes it warily but it just let its tongue loll out of its head and then abruptly let it slap against its right eye, cleaning it. She rolled her eyes and watched the doc come in and begin to stitch the stranger up.

And the Gecko never left his side.

* * *

><p>Cass yawned and stretched on her cot, night shirt riding up her scar riddled stomach and she pulled her legs up onto the mattress. No blankets, no sheets, just your skin fighting against the desert chill. But Cass was hardened by the cool breezes and found them rather comforting. She set her hat against the empty side of her pillow and folded her hands beneath her head, closing her eyes as the alcohol lulled her towards sleep. Of course it didn't last long, with the groaning and mumbling and all coming from the cot on the other side of her head board. Her eyes popped open from slits and she grumbled, sitting up and glaring at the occupant.<p>

The stranger.

His eyes, or rather _eye _(meaning the right one), were open and he was rocking his head back and forth on the ragged pillow. The Gecko was chirping against his cheek, nudging his head around. He smiled and reached over with a swollen arm and pats the beast on the head, scratching the flaky skin on the underside of its jaw and then he tried to sit up. Cass jumped up and pushed him back down onto the bed, cringing when a cry of pain came from his lips.

"Shut it," she hissed, eyes hovering over the form of a sleeping Ranger on the cot next to hers. He didn't wake. She looked back down at him and noticed that eye on her, feeling something…sort of familiar. But she shook that off. It was probably the booze still flowing through her. "You're in the Mojave Outpost, just lay back and relax. Look like you've been through hell."

He smiled a small smile, obviously finding something funny in all of this, but he didn't say anything but one word. A name. "Nathaniel."

Cass's brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"

He chuckled. "My name, it's Nathaniel."

She stared at him for a moment before she decided on giving her own name. But not all of it, that was reserved for people she trusted, people she cared about. "Cass, my name is Cass."

He nodded a little and then his eyes went to the ceiling. "So, how did I get here?"

Cass almost growled at him. She wanted to sleep. But, she had been in the same situation more times that she cared to remember and she had always had someone looking out for her. So she perched herself on the very edge of the mattress and combed her fingers through her hair for a moment.

"Your buddy there I guess drug you here."

He looked over at the Gecko that had finally curled into a tight ball against the bunk and smiled. "He's a good friend."

"Friend," Cass snorted. "Them damn things are part of what is keeping me here in this shithole."

He frowned. "Only a part of the reason?"

Her shoulders tensed and she waved a hand at him. "Don't worry about that, what the hell did this to you?"

He sighed and reached up, eyeing his right hand intensely for a moment before he looked up at her. "Well let's see," he muttered, rolling painfully onto his side. "First I climbed out of the grave, got shot in the head a few weeks ago. And then I got attacked by some rogue Powder Gangers and then I got attacked by a group of bandits in Primm. Didn't know I had this guy following me around," he reached down and placed his hand flat against the Gecko's hide. "But I'm thankful for it."

"You talk rather fluently for being shot in the head," Cass muttered, moving to her cot.

"What brought you here?"

She stayed silent for a long time. "Go to sleep."

"Wanna leave with me tomorrow?"

Cass' head shot up and she eyed him with wide irises. "What?"

He smiled. "I'm leaving tomorrow and I don't want to put my new buddy through too much shit, having some back up with a shotgun could make it easier. And you don't like this place anyway right? Come with me to New Vegas."

"Why the hell would you want to go to New Vegas?"

"Vengeance."

_Vengeance._

The word rang with pleasure and desperation. It was like a light bulb clicking on inside of her skull and Cass grinned. Vengeance sounded like a lot of fun, and it would possibly satiate her thirst for her own vengeance.

"Hell yeah I do, when do we leave?"

"After we down the first bottle of whiskey in the morning."

* * *

><p><em><strong>I think I am going to keep the M!CourierCass arc in order. Or maybe I will make them their own story or series of separate one shots. I don't know. Any ideas?**_

_**ADVETISMENTS: **_

_**Deadman Wonderland by my partner for the Vatos account is going to be a really exciting New Vegas fic. We've already got at least fifteen chapters done but we will post two at a time.**_

_**My own story Your Pretty Face Is Going to Hell is a fallout 3 – Charon/F!LoneWanderer fic, may not come with a happy ending but it's debatable.**_

_**Two to the Head: A Courier Six Novel by SuprisinglyOdd is a good story already.**_

_**The Wasteland Warrior: Genesis by Raven Darthvana is also an excellent story.**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>If anyone would like me to advertise for their own story on mine like I did above feel free to say something. I get a TON of views on my stories and I enjoy helping people with getting their story out there.<strong>_


	8. Searchlight Scorpions

_I am such a neglectful writer. Here's a rather long one for you._

_Part of the F!Courier/Raul arc_

* * *

><p>Atilla didn't want to do this.<p>

She just didn't want to do this. But she supposed she should have seen it coming, since she always had to do things she didn't want to do.

She sighed and looked up to the sky, watching the clouds pass over head, and then she jumped when Raul's elbow dug into her side. She growled and pushed him off of her, watching in satisfaction as his head knocked rather harshly against the side of the cart. He yelped and jumped himself, almost falling out of the cart, but he quickly remembered where he was and caught himself, fingers curling around old corn stalks.

He looked around, eyes wide, and then his eyes landed on Atilla. "Oy, what the hell was that fer boss?"

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's not fair that you can be so calm about this while I am just so angry."

He rolled his eyes, rubbing at a now tender spot on his head. "Doesn't mean ya gotta try and take me out."

"Whatever," she grumbled, lowering her arms and looked at the rolling road behind the cart. "Ho-"

"We're here."

Atilla clamped her jaw shut as the cart came to a jerky stop and she was off of it immediately, ready to kiss the dusty ground until she got a lungful of radiation. She hacked on it immediately, regretting being such a fool and not paying attention to when they had officially entered a radiation zone. She turned around, tying a bandana around her nose and mouth while Raul paid the driver. They had met him at the Gun Runner's outpost outside New Vegas and he said he was headed to Novac, so they told him they would pay him to go a little farther. He and his Brahmin had been lugging them on for a week now.

The driver smiled and tipped his raw hide hat. "Thank ya Mr."

He wasn't really a man, in these times he was, but to Atilla he was just a kid. He couldn't be older than fifteen. She watched the trail of his cartwheels as he turned the cart around and then she was pat on the shoulder. She looked up to Raul with wide, questioning, eyes but he just shook his head and pointed over to the NCR outpost they had been headed for.

"Right," she muttered. "Well then, let's get this over with."

She didn't know the man's name, and he didn't give it, but he seemed to be the one in charge. He was a good foot taller than her and held an impressive assault rifle in his hands, but Atilla would comment on that later. They talked for twenty minutes about what had happened and future plans to sabotage a radio at Cottonwood Cove, but Atilla brought him back to the present real quickly.

"So what do you want me to do? Last time I was here you didn't give me any details about this job, you're lucky I took the time to do this."

His hazel eyes ran over her and then he looked to Raul, who was rather bored and scratching at the hole where his right ear would have been. He looked back down to Atilla. "Look, you already know I want the dog tags," she nodded. "But I heard there was a group of bandits that snuck into the camp."

Atilla pieced it together rather quickly. "You want me to get them out of there."

"Yes."

"Alive?"

"Yes."

"You have got to be joking."

He sighed and shook his head. "I'm not," he took a step closer to her, getting at her side and then made a gesture for her and Raul to start following him, so they did. "We need them alive so we can make an example of them. Even though the NCR was bombed, they can't just sneak in there and decide to mess with our supplies."

Atilla could understand what he was meaning to do, but she didn't want to go in there and deal with bandits. If she wasn't getting paid, she would just skip her ass out of there. She wouldn't have even taken that extra effort to get back to him. But she was standing in front of him right now, in front of the irradiated ruins of Camp Searchlight and he was willing and ready to pay her if she did this for him. They paused in their path when they felt the warmth of the radiation beginning to seep into their skin.

Atilla looked over the glowing haze of the town and then looked over at Raul. "What do you think?"

He shrugged. "Your call boss," he hummed for a minute and then peered around her to the officer. "You pay us three hundred extra and we got a deal."

"Five hundred extra if we're haggling," Atilla looked back to the town. "We're going in here risking our necks to get you back your fallen comrade's dog tags and now we have drag out an undetermined amount of bandits. We need better compensation than that."

He huffed and nodded fiercely, placing his hands on his hips. "Fine, fine you get five hundred added to your four hundred and that's nine hundred, we have a deal?"

Atilla stared at him for a long moment and then held out her hand to him. "Deal."

He nodded and took her hand, giving it a firm shake before he turned back towards his outpost. "We'll be waiting here when you get back."

Atilla waved an angry hand and stuffed her hands into her back pockets, trudging into the irradiated ruins. Raul hummed circles around her, the radiation making his fleshless arms tingle, the muscles were twitching and making him hyper.

"This is bullshit," Atilla finally muttered as they approached the ruins of a church.

"What is," Raul leaned back ever so slightly to look around the edge of the church, seeing a ghoul in trooper armor growling around a power down turret. "Heads up."

Atilla caught his attention and nodded, jogging to the back of the church. Through the crumbling walls she had a clear shot of his path and pulled out her silenced sniper rifle, chewing on her bottom lip when she saw a Glowing One coming down the street. She would just have to be a quick shot. They were way too close to try and get them both with one shot. She nestled the scope around her eye, finger slowly easing down the trigger and she fired. The ghoul slumped to the ground while the Glowing One hissed and began waving its arms around. Atilla grit her teeth and fired again, catching it just under the eye. The body twisted on one snapped ankle and fell to the ground. Atilla breathed a heavy sigh and they began to slink around the old church.

Atilla found the dog tags, stuffing them in her back pocket before she coughed harshly into the crook of her elbow. She pulled back, looking down at the blood across her arm and her stomach clenched. She looked over at Raul and he had a knowing look on his face.

"Come on, I think I saw a house over here that wasn't boarded up."

Atilla nodded and let him help her up, using him as a support when her head swam. They rounded the corner of an old wooden home, Atilla faintly smelling cooking meat before she heard a familiar crinkling to their left. They stopped and Atilla pulled out her scoped .44 magnum, ready to blast the radscorpion into a million little bits.

But she didn't do anything.

Because…well, she didn't know what she was seeing exactly.

It was a radscorpion, or at least half of one. Its legs were flying and its tail was bobbing but it was sideways in the earth scuttling past them. Atilla and Raul watched it pass with a blank face, Atilla holstering her gun before she pushed away from Raul.

"That's it, I'm done."

Raul watched her hobbling away with a confused look on his face before he started after her. "B-Boss, what are y-"

"Nope," she shook her head, feeing the radiation ease from her system the further she walked. "I'm done. I'm done with the Wasteland, the NCR. I am just so done. I'm going back to New Vegas, I'm curling up in my bed and I am sleeping for a week."

Raul paused, jaw slack and he pointed back at the radscorpion and then to Atilla. "B-But…wait a minute…"

* * *

><p><em>Hmm, I'm running out of glitches to work with – for right now – so perhaps I will get back into romantic ones. Might do a Cass and M!Courier one again. Any suggestions? I take as many requests as you can give me.<em>


	9. The Whiskey Does This to Her

_**Prompt for this was listening to Mr. Jones by the Counting Crows. Just thinking of a sad Atilla with a bottle of whiskey. This is just one of those random one shots I think of. The arcs so far are Boone/F!Courier – Raul/F!Courier – Cass/M!Courier – Big Mountain/F!Courier (that's obviously not a pairing but you get it right?) and the one shots I do for the ridiculous glitches throughout Fallout. Then there's these bad boys, the ones that come out of thin air.**_

* * *

><p>"<em>The whiskey does this to her…"<em>

His eyes stare over at the nearly silent sniper and watches his brow twitch around the neck of his own brew.

His name is Philip, and he had to stumble into the Atomic Wrangler on the wrong night.

"_The whiskey does this to her…"_

Makes her cry into a microphone, cheeks flushed crimson and feet tangling around each other? Makes her strip down to just her pants, gauze wrapped tightly around her breasts, revealing the deep scars no one – not even someone living in the Mojave – should bear. Makes tears flow steadily across her dusty cheeks while she bellows out that sad song?

"_**And if you don't know how!**_"

Philip wonders if perhaps the Queen of the Mojave has finally lost it and then Boone's lips curl around those words again.

"_The whiskey does this to her…"_

"_**I'll come back with you and take all that's true!**_"

He looks back to the stage and watches her collapse, microphone clenched tightly in her hand and no one seems to care about what she's doing, like they've seen this more than once. And they probably had. He remembered a night, maybe four – or was it five – years ago when he heard complaints about some woman going all mopey on stage for no reason.

"_The whiskey does this to her…"_

The only answer he gets for the song is a ghoul. She grieves over a ghoul? But he saw the ghoul she was with leave earlier. Not that ghoul, Boone says, one from before he had met her. One that was more dangerous than she was, and she was dangerous. She sang the song for him when the whiskey hit, when it made everything fuzzy and sad.

When she just couldn't take it right then.

"_The whiskey does this to her…"_

And Philip believes that, he doesn't discriminate and he even raises his glass to her. Her shiny eyes convey an immense amount of praise for the sign of a strangers fellowship and she continues to belt out a haunting melody.

"_The whiskey does this to her…"_


	10. Equations

_**Seeing as I haven't done one for Mobius in awhile, let's revisit my main reason for starting these things. Sad and short, but I couldn't help myself. I hadn't noticed before in the Red Dome that the white things all over the ground were equations and not just scratches. Usually by the time I get to him, I'm in such a hurry to leave that I don't pay attention. This time I was going through, trying to find some more inspiration and actually paid attention. Now, the next one shot is for another glitch and do 't think I've forgotten about the suggestion for Sheason. Just have to message for the request and I'm working on it.**_

**Anyway, how about some more suggestions? Maybe for an OC of your own? No matter how ridiculous, I am open. As I said before, these are just for fun. But I am looking to hit a certain number of chapters before I end Drabbles of Doom. Look to the details in my profile on one shots and maybe even your own story, if you have a plot but you're not a very good writer.**

* * *

><p><em>"Mind the equations..."<em>

He said it every time they ended a conversation, as though he were the one forgetting them. Atilla was lying beside a particularly long one, her fingers lingering over the ancient chalk stains. Her eyes swam, her head tilted and she eyes the ones than ran around the monitor used to connect with the Think Tank.

So many equations...it was mind boggling.

Atilla wasn't a particularly smart woman.

She didn't know long mathematical equations, she didn't give the correct change when she worked at the Atomic Wrangler, trying to pay off a long tab she accumulated when she was sad.

All she knew how to do was fire a Red Glare, use a Super-Heated Saturnite Fist. She knew where to stab someone so they could bleed out at the pace she wanted them to.

Atilla was a killer not a scholar.

"You wrote these when you were still..." she stood as she spoke, gazing over at Mobius.

His screens reflected her back over crooked eyes and false lips. He tilted this way and that, observing the writings just as she had and then turned to her. "Why yes, when I was still human," he cheered jovially. "Peculiar things, I do not remember what they were for but they must have been important."

Atilla's lips twitched gently but then she looked back to the scribbles. "What do they mean? Like..."

Her words died as quickly as his attention span.

She watched him zoom away, singing a mangled version of a song about bones. Atilla stared cor a long time, teeth worrying her bttom lip with an urgency. Her eyes conveyed a deep worry for her friend. He was...he was deteriorating. He once knew what these writings were, could explain what they meant in agonizing detail. And he had never just ignored her, preffered to sing than talk to her.

Atilla didn't want to accept it, she didn't want to believe that Mobius was dying.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Excuse any spelling errors. Long story no one cares about.<strong>_


	11. Bio-Research

Hey, I'm back:) I wanted to let everyone know that I have started a Drabble of Doom for Skyrim as well. If you wanna check it out, do it up. Want a request? Say so. I don't care, it's all in good fun. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this. It happens every time I'm in Big Mountain.

_**Warning:** _Very short.

_**A/N:** __Updated because Fanfiction has been messing up the format. So this would have been out a hell of a lot sooner had I been able to fix the problem on my own. But no, the website wanted to a dick._

* * *

><p>"I uh," Atilla rubbed the back of her neck, right hand placed firmly on her hip. "I don't know what I'm seeing right now."<p>

"Your guess is as good as mine," Arcade muttered, taking a bite of the strange thing Atilla called 'chocolate'.

Atilla looked at him sideways, her facial expression priceless had she not been so genuinely confused.

They had arrived in Big Mountain just that morning, exactly six hours ago, and hadn't been in once. The Sink hadn't reported in on any unusual theatrics inside the apartment and no one had complained. Muggy had been so caught up in the avalanche of mugs his Courier had brought that she had totally forgotten to ask if he had seen anything strange. But he had just been so happy and cute, she didn't want to disturb him as he seemed to have a multiple-orgasm over the white ceramic drinking cups. 'If only Michael Angelo had let me keep that camera,' Atilla had cooed over her little mug-obsessed Securitron.

Arcade had thought the whole place strange from the beginning.

The machines talked.

In non-programmed, coherent sentences. Arcade wanted to dissect everything, he almost got a nosebleed from this place. So gay, so fabulous and so obsessed with technology. Ugh, he was adorable.

But right now, he was just as stumped as she was over what was happening in front of them.

The Sink had a Biological Research Station Atilla used quite frequently. There were so many plants she wanted more of that she rarely found in the Mojave and the station would certainly help the plants grow and thrive for her to just have whenever she wanted. But, lately, she had just been lazy and wanted basic crops to bring back to the NCR workers outside of New Vegas. So, she had planted the normal things: banana yucca, Nevada agave fruit, jalapenos, brock flower. Things were running smooth, totally fine.

Then she came back to…whatever this was.

The stalks of corn were just…_falling_ through the trough they were supposed to be planted in. But it wasn't just that. No dirt was falling, there was no hole in the bottom of the trough. The stalks were just falling. Over and over again. Falling through, getting an inch from the ground and then reappearing the same height above the soil before dropping again.

"I am so sick of this place," Atilla sighed, turning towards her bedroom.

Arcade pursed his glittery – yes, glittery – lips and then took another bite of the chocolate. "I want more of this…"

* * *

><p><em>Not as funny as usual but it's like 2:34 in the morning where I am and I am just so worn out from fighting with my family and dealing with a horrible dog that this was it. I promise another glitch is next and it will be so funny you pee yourself…ok, maybe not that funny, but you get the message. And this was mostly stemmed from sugar and the glitch but mainly a picture I found with Arcade putting on lipgloss.<em>

_I may do something about that...hmm..._


	12. Things to Sell pt 1

_**I saw this meme on Pinterest and it made me realize I do exactly the same thing but with bent cans.**_

_**What is the oddest thing you've collected in the Fallout universe? Let me know and if you don't mind, I would like to make it's own one shot about it.**_

* * *

><p>"<em>Why don't you do right<br>Get out of here,  
>Get me some money, too…"<em>

Isaac heard the hum of a radio over the ruins of a building to his right and straightened his back, fingers hovering over the barrel of an old assault rifle. He saw the dog and its mechanical frame first, then the petite Courier came into view, her sniper at her heels with the same look on his face – blank. She had that ever-present smile on her face and her hair was wild around her sharp face. The armor she wore was strange but those that knew her were used to the black, almost clunky armor with white stripes and a speaker on the right shoulder. It was weird but seemed to fit her.

She stopped in front of the Gun Runners stand and clicked the speaker of her Pip-Boy off, grinning at Isaac and pushing her hair back from face but to no avail: the curls remained around her lips and eyebrows.

"Hey Isaac," Rex bumped his head against her right hand. "You guys open yet?"

Isaac nodded. "Yeah, just turned him on. Go ahead and unload what you want to."

Atilla nodded over-enthusiastically and walked over to the open counter, dropping her pack between her feet. She pulled out an assortment of things: a couple of Nuka-Cola Victories, several stacks of random ammo, three sets of Powder-Ganger armor, ten sets of leather armor, one set of Legion armor, two pistols, three assault rifles, one caravan shotgun and a few miscellaneous items. It was the normal routine, she would appear out of nowhere, drop off a massive amount of supplies, and disappear into the night.

But, there was always this one thing she would try before she disappeared.

"That enough for that rifle?"

Isaac looked back over to her but didn't really say anything, that was what the robot was for. After a moment or two of processing, the robot spoke. "Total worth: 3,246 caps."

Atilla growled and slammed her fists down on the counter. "Dammit, I'm only 200 caps off," she looked to Isaac with a desperate look in her eyes. "Come on man, can't we just make this one acception? I'm a loyal customer."

Isaac chuckled, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I know, but I can't change the price. Sure you don't have anything else you can part with? I mean, if you really want it…you've been at this for over a moth."

Atilla grumbled and looked down at Rex, who was sitting to her right, tail thumping against the concrete, tongue lolled out of her mouth. Her brow shot up and she grinned like a mad woman, whipping around to Boone. He stared at her silently for a long moment and then sighed, pulling the pack from his back and passing it to her. She squealed gleefully and clapped her hands together, taking the bag and dropping it beside her other bag.

She began to unload teddy bear, after teddy bear, after teddy bear onto the counter.

Isaac stared with a blank expression while Boone just shook his head, Rex yipped like a happy pup. Teddy bears spilled off the edge of the counter and Isaac finally pulled away from his work, looking over her shoulder to the bag.

"How many are in there?"

She shook her head and continued to throw teddy bears onto the counter.

"Seriously? There's more?"

Rex barked, lying on belly, head resting on his paws.

"How many do you have?"

"She has 165," Boone answered gruffly. "Heavy as fuck."

"Why?"

"She collects them."

Atilla continued to grin, dropping bear after bear, sending a wave of them onto the concrete to pool around her feet.

* * *

><p><em><strong>If it weren't for my Microsoft Office Word's autosave feature, I wouldn't be posting this. The computer froze that I was using and I had to force it to shut down without being able to save. More to come dealing with selling things. <strong>_

_**Next Chapter: another snippet of Cass and our M!Courier all for josueb**_


	13. Keene

_**I know I said this would be a Cass/M!Courier piece but...I mean, this is gold. Utter crack/crap.**_

_**What keeps repeating in my head while I type this: Have you heard of our Lord and Savior, Keene?**_

* * *

><p>"This is weird."<p>

"No it's not."

"Yeah it is."

"Eeeeeeh...no it's not. It's glorious."

He sat, perched on a throne built of twisted metal and old bed sheets (the great Keene did not need a numb bum), a staff made of a spindly pine tree in his left hand - lettering carved in Latin across the old wood. He grinned smugly - well, as smugly as a Nightkin could.

"All Hail Keene!"

Who was preaching, might you ask?

Well, none other than the savior of the NCR, Queen of the Mojave - Courier 6. Or Atilla, if you frown on formality.

She kneeled before the Nightkin, Arcade, Boone, Cass and Veronica bowed in sync, chanting the same mantra. Even Rex kneeled before his new overlord.

"How drunk do you think they are?"

Marcus shook his head, watching Atilla scramble to kiss Keene's left foot. "They did just win the Battle of Hoover Dam...half of the troops probably have alcohol poisoning."

"Think we should stop them?"

"Nah, get a camera."


	14. Sheason

**_Holy crap guys, I almost forgot about this! I did a thing with Sheason (you know, he's been floating around for awhile with New Vegas: Sheason's Story) and just remembered to put it together. Ugh, feels like a train wreck but a glorious one. Please review! Longest chapter yet!_**

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><p><em>"What. The. Fuck!"<em>

Atilla growled her way out of the X-13 Testing Facility.

It was all already gone.

The stealth suit, the fucking antenna, the pulse gun – everything, gone.

They had said that the previous Courier they had come to acquire wandered out into the Big MT and never returned. They had said due to the dangers in the crater, he was most likely dead. But what Atilla was stuck on was that there was _another _Courier that survived the operation and ended up in this hell-hole.

In truth, Atilla didn't know what to expect when she touched that blasted satellite dish outside of Nipton. She sure as hell didn't expect to be somehow transported to this place where abominations of science ran amok – lobotomites, nightstalkers, cazadores. They were everywhere here. Between them, the robo-dogs and the robo-scorpions skittering around here, she was at a loss of what to do. She also didn't have any of her weapons due to the fact that Dala 'misplaced' her pack of supplies. It had all of her weapons, her stimpaks, her med-x. It also had her armor in it; she was still stuck in the patient gown she had been dressed in when she awoke.

That was another thing, why had she woke up on the balcony of the SINK?

The brains were psycho.

"Fuck this," she kicked at a brain casing she had blasted from one of the military robo-dog she had fought earlier. "I'm gonna go rest…maybe I'll kill the brains…"

* * *

><p>"You know, I'm curious…why are you such a pain in the ass all the time? I mean, you're really high strung for a toaster."<p>

"Have you ever tried to indulge an all-consuming urge to kill when you don't have opposable thumbs? Or hands? Or anything other than a bread slot? You'd have a lot of pent-up anger too!"

"Seriously. You need to switch to decaf coffee or something, because you –"

"DID SOMEONE MENTION COFFEE?! OH GOD! Please, please, PLEASE tell me you have some mugs? Just a few mugs, that's all I fucking need just one more mug OH GOD!"

"SILENCE, you tiny annoying, coffee mug obsessed midget! I swear, once I tap into the main reactors I will render to ash and cinders! YOU HEAR ME? ASH AND CINDERS!"

"Right, I'm gonna go talk to the Biological Research Station, see if that salient green is finished congealing. At least the innuendos from him are easier to handle than the constant threats of violence from you morons."

* * *

><p>She tapped her foot impatiently, unaware of the commotion going on in the SINK. She had her arms cross over her chest, anger set in her jaw. What was taking so fucking long?! Ya know, you'd think scientific 'geniuses' like the Brains would be able to make a faster elevator.<p>

She needed to calm down, she was never usually this mouthy or aggravated, violent, but she wanted to get home and have her own clothes to wear. She also missed Boone.

Boone.

The one that told her _not _to go near the damn satellite in the first place. She wondered how he was, what he did when she just disappeared in front of him. Boone never lost his cool unless she was involved and he only really freaked out when she did something really stupid, like this.

As the doors opened, she approached the sink, steaming mad.

"Do you know of any way to kill the brains without shooting," she growled. "I wasted half my bullets shooting at those fucking lobotomites –"

"Sir, there is a –"

"Then I get to all these buildings for the shit they sent me after and guess what," she began tugging at the strings on her patient gown; she wanted her fucking armor back, that delicious set of White Leg armor that hugged her in all the right places? Yes please.

As she tugged the final strings of the gown free, she huffed. Who else would see her but insane robot and those fucking experiments?

"But sire, I must infor –"

"Somebody already took them," she screamed, throwing the gown to the side. "Every device, every piece of that suit – gone! I'm so –"

Sheason paused at the threshold of the doorway, a bit dumfounded and unable to keep himself from staring.

At everything.

"Uh…hi. Who are…you're…uh..well…there…there y'are."

Atilla turns to him, more than angry but also now confused. She looked down at herself, realizing the problem, then turns back to him.

"Yeah…" she sighed. "Here I am."

Cue awkward silence, Muggy humming some insane tune in the background about mugs. The toaster was still on a metaphorical rampage about world domination between insane bursts of laughter. The Auto-Doc snored, muttering to a nurse that wasn't there about handing him a scalpel.

All the while, Atilla and Sheason stared at each other.

"Welp," Atilla smacks her lips. "I am thoroughly out of fucks to give. Who the hell are you? And what are you going in my metaphorical apartment?"

"YOUR apartment," Sheason finally manages to pull his gaze from the naked lady bits in front of him (but still keeping his hand on Roscoe, just in case). "Now…I've taken quite a few knocks to the head in the past few days, and even got my brains scooped out and misplaced somewhere…but I think I would've remembered sharing The Sink with someone other than the batshit brigade," calm as he could, Sheason ran his free hand along his scarred and shaved head. "So, who are you, and what are you doing in MY base of operations?"

Atilla raised her hands, looking down at the floor for a moment, then she peered up at him from under her brow. "Wait, wait, wait…you got your brains scooped out too," they stared at each other, Atilla very much confused. "So you're the bastard that took all my stuff," she yelped in shock. "And how do you not know who I am? I'm Atilla, Queen of the Wasteland! And don't you dare think of shooting me!"

"Queen of the Wasteland, huh," Sheason questioned, failing to repress a smirk. He had an idea of what was going on, but first. "Quite the impressive and ballsy title, coming from a woman in her birthday suit."

Her cheeks were on fire but she straightened her back, placing her hands on her boney hips. "Still don't hear a complaint," she hummed. "If you're so inclined to complain though, you can give me that suit there. I mean, it is mine after all."

She hoped he'd fall for it, whatever this was. Of course, the look in his eyes told her he would be able to call any bluff or bullshit she spouted out even if she was the best bullshitter in the world. And Atilla wasn't the best she normally jumped in, guns blazing. If she had known he was there, she would have at least tried to sneak up on him. Maybe. He didn't seem like someone to fuck with, though Atilla was always one for danger.

"Not a complaint, just a bit distracting," Sheason reached down to the discarded patient down on the floor and tossed it to her with a smirk. "Either way, I don't have such illustrious or ridiculously over-the-top titles. My name is Sheason Fisher…but most people lately have been calling me Courier Six," he leaned up against the reloading bench, waiting patiently for her response to that; that would tell him if his theory was right or not.

She caught the gown with a grumble, tying it again. "I think I heard something about that," she looked over at the man with a guarded look. "A…friend of mine talks about you a lot, kinda want to say he's obsessed with you," she mumbled the last part; why was he looking at her like that?

She then snorted and turned back to the SINK, typing on the touch pad, sifting through the contents of the medical supplies. As if she owned the place. Wait, she did. he was the intruder dammit.

"Care to explain why you're staring at me like that," she growled, focused on emptying out the stimpak reserve.

Sheason shrugged.

"Just wondering how you survived the brain removal procedure. Most don't, I hear. I only survived because I got shot in the head outside Goodsprings awhile back…" even though his head was still covered in the obviously recent surgical scars, he pointed at a very specific scar: a small brownish-red line just above his left eye. "Made a nice wrinkle in my brain. I tell ya, I never thought Benny shooting me would end up saving my life," as he spoke, he tried to get a look at her head – see if there was a similar 9mm scar on her face.

If she had one, he couldn't see it from that angle.

Her eyes lingered on that scar, thought back on blurry images. "Well damn man," she rubbed the back of her neck. "Never been shot. Maybe. I…I don't remember a lot of things these days. Hell, I don'r even know if my name is Atilla…" her lips quirk in the corner and she straightened her back all the way. "In short, I don't know why I survived. They said something about radiation or…maybe that's what they said. I'm getting tongue tied now."

She watched him for a moment, felt something familiar in his face but she just couldn't place any of the details she was given.

"Hmm…" Sheason muttered, stroking his chin. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you're not the first Courier I've come across with their memory all swiss-cheesed," was that what she was before she found Boone? It sounded right. Then again, she wanted to say Ulysess was right. "Hell, you're not even the first strange one this week. You are the first naked one," she grinned but he didn't miss a beat. "So, there's that. I supposed this kind of situation is to be expected though," as he spoke, he pulled out the Big Mountain Transportalponder! and started twirling it around in his hand. "Whenever you take the fabric of space and time and start poking holes in it, willy-nilly, all sorts of strange things are bound to happen."

Her eyes kind of sparkled on that weird gun-thing in his hand. "Was dat," she pointed at it. Then she heard the first of his words and shook her head fiercely. "I think I need to lay off the psycho," she grumbled. "I'm not the first one with screwed up memories to end up here?"

What did that mean? And what did say about space – time – some shit?

"This? This is a nifty little device. By itself, it doesn't actually do anything. It's just the transmitter-receiver. It sends coordinate data to and from the quantum tunneling device network Mobius built, which allows it to generate a miniature, Dark Energy fueled Einstein-Rosen bridge between two-" He finally stopped when he noticed the blank stare she was giving him. "Alright, I think I better explain with a practical demonstration." He tapped the Book Chute on the wall next to him, and the automated personality sprang to life. "Book Chute, think I can get a blank piece of paper and a pencil?"

"Absolutely, Citizen!" There was a whirring sound, and the items emerged from the slot at the bottom. "I certainly hope you're not thinking of writing any seditious thoughts on that paper! Blank pages are better for the mind, Citizen! Real science by real men in lab coats has proved that introducing outside thoughts confuses the brain!"

"Alright," Sheason ignored the Commie-hating construct, and moved on. He took the piece of paper, and drew two dots on opposite ends. "Quick question: what's the shortest distance between two points? A straight line, right?" He shook his head. "Wrong. The shortest distance between two points..." He folded the paper in half, so both dots touched each other. "... is zero. That's what this - the Transportalponder - does. Only problem..." Sheason took the pencil, and shoved it through the dots, spearing the page. "It does so by poking holes in reality. And all sorts of strange things happen when reality gets poked and prodded enough to tear."

Atilla stared at him with pursed lips and then shook her head slowly. "Ok that…actually made some sort of sense," she took in a deep breath. "Now about the whole 'You're in my apartment-thing' situation," she took another breath, her fingertips shaking. "The brains already got to you and you have the stuff," she looked like she had a bad taste in her mouth. "Why did they think you were dead? I'm so confused…"

"It's not your apartment. Well, it is, but it isn't. Weren't you listening," would it be bad if she said no? "Different realities are bleeding over into one another and the continued use of dark energy is causing the ripples in the time stream. If I had to guess, you're still searching for your brain, right," he tapped the side of his head several times and smirked. "My brains may have been scooped out but I eventually go him back. Speaking of: there isn't really a huge choice of voice modules in the Forbidden Zone, so don't be surprised if your brain sounds British."

Oh…oh right, he explained everything a minute ago.

No more drugs.

With or without her brain.

She groaned, holding the sides of her head. "Ugh this all hurts," she shook her head. "British well…I don't know what a British is," she grumbled. "Can there be a compromise? Ah fuck it, I wont be doing too much sitting around until I find my brain…"

"Sorry for confusing you. I tend to ramble a bit. Well…" Sheason shrugged with a smile. "I ramble a lot now, at least. If it makes you feel any better, I was just as confused talking with the last Courier before he phased back into his own reality. He called himself Thomas Jefferson, I shit you not. Kept going on about horses or something…I dunno, I kind of stopped paying attention at that point."

She pursed her lips inwards, chuckling lightly. "Wish I could have seen that," she paused. "You haven't happened to see a knapsack with Captain Cosmos on it have you? Dala said she took my stuff in here but…now I'm wondering if she didn't flushing that down the toilet."

"Captain Cosmos?" Sheason looked around, leaning up off his seat on the reloading bench. "Nope, don't believe so. I'm sure it'll turn up. She may be a bit flighty at times, but that horny brain doesn't misplace things when it really counts. Especially if she's taken a fancy to you. Then again, if you have skin and a working brain, she's probably taken a fancy to you..." Sheason smiled to himself and laughed softy, thinking about one of the recent 'formography' sessions with Dala.

Atilla pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well dammit..." she thought for a minute."Did she make you...ya know," her voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "Blink?"

It was funny to her.

She knew why this Sheason chuckled. Dala just really liked to watch her teddy bears blink and move their fingers.

Sheason couldn't stand it anymore. He just busted up laughing.

"Oh, I'm sure there was blinking involved... along with many other bodily functions." Sheason leaned back with a smug expression and his fingers laced behind his head. "You ever get the chance, ask Dala about the 'hologram protocol' she has for assisting in her formography sessions. Just make sure the other Think Tanks aren't around. She's kind of wants to keep it on the down-low. Hush-hush, you know how it goes."

"Oh that's fucking hilarious," Atilla grinned. "I may not kill them after all..." She looked around for a moment, her mood upping a little. What was she supposed to do? "I guess I should leave you to your business," she sighed. "Any idea there my brain might be?"

"Probably where it always ends up: The Forbidden Zone," Sheason hopped off the reloading bench and made his way to The Sink Central Intelligence console in the center of... well, the Sink. "It won't open until you get the X-2 antenna, the sneaky suit, and a few upgrades for the sonic emitter. But, if you want my advice..." The holographic display in the central console shifted, and became a three-dimensional map of the Big MT. Sheason punched in a few more buttons, and it highlighted a spot in the northwest corner of the crater. "... I would stop by here first. You're gonna need that jury-rigged Tesla cannon to deal with the robo-scorpion. Oh, and once you get there - don't shoot Mobius. He's really a nice guy for a crazy, senile brain in a jar, even if he is a bit..." Sheason took his finger and circled his ear several times, whistling out a cuckoo clock noise.

Atilla sighed and nodded. "Alright, alright," she ran a hand over her head. "I just wish Dala would give me my stuff. But I guess there are plenty of toys out there in the Big Empty."  
>She smiled a wide, insane smile and clapped her hands together. Then she looked over at Sheason with a quizzical expression.<br>"Wait, I won't run into you out there will I," she waved both hands in the air. "Never mind, it won't matter," she began to walk towards the door, untying the gown and shrugging it off again. She dropped it by the door and waved over her head as it opened. "Bye bye apartment stealer!"

Sheason watched with a sense of wry amusement as she practically scampered past him, undoing the patient gown as she went. As soon as she was out of earshot, he muttered "Fuckin' tourists..." and pulled the trigger on the Transportalponder. In a flash and a pop, he disappeared again.

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><p><strong><em>See feels like a trainwreck but a glorious one at that.<em>**


	15. Gnope

**_Ehehehehe my guilty in-game pleasure_**

* * *

><p>Boone didn't understand her obsession with collecting things.<p>

The teddy bears, acceptable sure. She was a girl, in her own words.

The model rockets, they contained a now-rare substance many people collected, liked to buy from her but at a steep price.

The dino toys...even he liked those. Always had a fascination with dinosaurs but of course, he would never admit such a thing to...anyone. Even Carla was in the dark.

But, the gnomes - unexceptable and his opinion was echoed.

"Creepy, glass eyed bastards," Arcade muttered every morning on his way to the kitchen, seeing those things staring at him from what was the pool room. "Unnatural."

"Momma had a lot of 'm," Raul always closed the door to the room. "Hated the wee things even then."

The look Cass gave the room in passing was enough, Veronica thought they would come to life at night, saying they'd steal everyone's left sock; why the left?

Atilla ignored everyone. She loved collecting them. ED-E and Rex supported her though, she could jump out of the bomber the Boomers had repaired and they'd follow blindly. She always cooed when they scavenged one, holding it close and shielding it from battle until it was safely tucked in the Lucky 38.

But, one day, Boone noticed a difference in her. It started early in the morning, Boone was headed towards the kitchen but stopped when he saw her leaning against the doorframe to the lounge. He hesitated then approached her, a tentative hand ghosting over her shoulder.

She looked up at him curiously, not even smiling before she looked back into the room. He didn't follow her gaze, those black eyes creeped him out.

"Everything...alright?"

She opened her mouth but then closed it, shaking her head. She reached up, cupping his jaw and turned his head towards the room before crossing her arms again.

"God dammit," he muttered.

The largest gnome had been put on the table, atop an abandoned deck of cards spread over the wooden top. It held a pipe in its hand and its grin was yellow, old. But that wasn't the worst part.

It was shaking. Violently. But it wasn't unbalanced or anything.

"Ya know what we gotta do, right," Boone muttered.

Atilla nodded slowly. "Burn this place to the ground."

"I was gonna say target practice but that works too."

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><p><em><strong>Weak glitch buuuuut I had this one sitting in my files and posted it to tide you over. The next is a glitch, much better than this one. Working on it right now.<strong>_


	16. Seriously, What the Fuck!

_**I just cannot apologize enough - I also cannot thank you all enough for reviewing, really, you guys are the best - but Skyrim has me in her claws. I've been playing non stop for months, all day, every day and Fallout just ebbed away. But I'm coming back with this and hope you can forgive.**_

_**P.S.: **__I've started a similiar collection to this called __**Drabbles of Doom: Skyrim Style**__, starring an Argonian DB named Pickles (my seven year old cousin did such an amazing job on his first Skyrim playthrough with an Argonian that I had to make him a story...even if he named him Pickles). Its there to soothe the plot bunnies until I post my own Skyrim story in the works._

* * *

><p>It started with...little things.<p>

Okay, little doesn't really count when a hand is flying at you. But to be fair, when a hand stretches that damn far out, its gonna...stretch it a little bit; okay, she's going to hell for that, she just knows it. But c'mon, who wouldn't make this damn joke?

Actually, the trip started off pretty normal, basic, routine if you will: infiltrate Vault 3 and bring back Motor Runner's helm. Fiends were no big deal in Atilla's perspective. So the psycho they shot themselves silly with turned them theoretically bullet proof, that's what she brought Veronica along for. With Oh Baby! in that womans hands, not even Deathclaws were worth batting an eyelash at. In case a few slipped past that giant, rusty sledge, Atilla had Rex and her power fist - and lets not forget trusty Boone and his kill - stealing sniper rifle.

Of course, no matter the planning out little ocd Courier put into this, those plans wouldn't prepare them for...whatever was happening.

"Look, the corn was enough," Arcade shot her a sideways glance, plasma pistol humming in his hands though all were dead in the Vault. "Then the freaking gnome - don't even get me started on the incident with ceasing up with that super mutant...but what in bloody hell is going on here?"

Shooting a fiend in the face seemed simple enough: point, click, boom. But as soon as Atilla had shot that hopped up bastard, his head shot back. Not a snap like usual - it full blown took off down the hallway and tapped the door behind him. And yet, his body stay firmly planted in front of them.

"Got me - wait, what about corn," Veronica gave them an odd glance, blood soaked hood pulled bacm over her head; who knew she had black hair?

Atilla opened her mouth to respond but as she did, the fiends right arm spasmed and shot out. Atilla ducked and so did Boone, but only she squeaked. The fiends knees wobbled and shivered and Atilla looked back at that small twitching hand.

The body lurched and spasmed, left leg sinking into the floor and then the right leg. As the torso disdapeared, the head snapped back to attention, as did the arm and they violently shuddered as the body slowly sank below, under the floor. When it finally dissapeared, all relaxed and Boone helped Atilla to her feet. She looked around for a moment then sighed.

"I need a drink."

"Agreed," Boone muttered.

"Well, lets get this helm and go."

Atilla began to shamble forward while everyone holstered their weapons, still a bit...well, shaken. As Atilla approached the crumpled body of Motor Runner, they all froze at the subtle clicking around them. Weapons were out again as the clicking grew louder; Boone moved to Atilla, thinking it a bomb. Arcade, Rex and Veronica took slow steps back, looking around wildy while Rex bared his gnarly teeth.

"Oh come on -"

Atilla shrieked and jumped back as the fiends body reappeared from her left, out of the wall, shooting past her and slamming into the wall to her right; it began to jerk around violently again.

"Oh fuck this," Atilla's eyes bugged and she turned around. "Boone -"

But he was already sprinting, with Arcade in his arms. Veronica was at their heels and Rex seemed torn before following his master that continued to scream until they reached Camp McCarren.

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><p><em><strong>This glitch is a real pain in the ass, agreed? I can't remember the name of the guest that reviewed (and I can't check while I type because I'm on my phone) but I thank you for reminding me of this.<strong>_


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